Thinking about Santa

Because it's Christmastime, Ross and I have been talking about Santa Claus and what we would like to do with the kids we will hopefully have at some point. Ross is very opposed to the idea of teaching our kids to believe in Santa because he doesn't like the idea of lying to one's children. I don't care so much about that (realizing that parents and caretakers deceive children in small ways all the time) but I am uncomfortable with the creepiness of Santa "watching" behavior (the Elf on the Shelf, for instance, just creeps me out). Rather than saying Santa was watching, my mom would just tell us that if we didn't behave at Christmastime, she would take our presents back to the store. It's the same threat without the perverseness of an invisible, omnipresent judge. (I wouldn't want my kids to develop that concept of God, so why would I encourage that concept of Santa?)

Most of the buzz about not observing any Santa Claus tradition seems to be from conservative Christians who disagree with secular observations of Christmas, but that doesn't factor in for us. I love a lot of secular aspects of Christmas (lights, trees, decorating, gift giving, that it's observed in December...) and have no problem incorporating them into what is still a religious holiday.

I grew up with Santa bringing candy and small gifts to fill my stocking. All the presents under the tree were from their actual giver (usually parents). As a kid I sometimes wondered why Santa brought other kids things like bikes and dolls but they got almost nothing from their parents. I never really wanted Santa to bring that stuff since my parents fulfilled a lot of my wishes (and received the exclamations of thanks on Christmas morning!), and we received a moderate amount of gifts. I realize that it's tradition for some families to give tons of gifts from Santa, but to me it seems really over the top.

I remember the conversation I had with my mom when I realized that Santa (and the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy) was not real. She explained that Santa was not an actual being, but a spirit of anonymous giving and a way to make the world a little more magical. I was initially unsatisfied with that answer, but came to love it pretty quickly. (I also was still perfectly happy to receive a stocking full of candy and little gifts!)

I wonder, though, how to go about not teaching belief in Santa in a culture where small children will certainly see depictions of Santa and be asked about their interactions with Santa. How do you keep a child from feeling disappointed about their parents rather than Santa filling their stocking, or even worse, from developing a belief in Santa anyway and thinking that us rather than Santa filling their stockings is a reflection of their inherent badness (since Santa allegedly doesn't visit bad children)? I'm glad I won't have to figure out how to negotiate this for a while.

Readers, what do you think? Did anyone grow up never believing in Santa? What did your parents teach you, and did you still do stockings from parents? How did you feel about it? Parents, if you aren't doing Santa for your kids, how do you address the cultural pervasiveness of Santa? What do you teach your kids?

Grateful for: IKEA

Okay, so I don't love Ikea in the same way I love my mom or Thanksgiving. But hey, if I'm going to write a bunch of blog entries about things I'm grateful for, I'm going to run out of family members eventually.

Yesterday Ross and I filled up a wall of our bedroom with the Antonius clothes storage system from Ikea. (Or more accurately, I filled the wall since I put the whole thing together.) I've had one set of drawers from that system for several years and I really like it. We've been needing to buy at least one more dresser, and this frees up a dresser or two for upstairs (so I can reign in the fabricsplosion up there).

I was SO EXCITED when I found out an Ikea was opening in Denver. I'd previously only been to one in Michigan, and I think the experience is a lot of fun. I love seeing Scandinavian design, although its clean lines, liberal use of plastic, and compartmentalization are a little too modern for what I actually want in my home. It is visually pleasing, but not cozy.

Walking through the showroom every so often is fun - you get to see lots of creative ways to arrange furniture and utilize space that often goes unused, which is always nice - plus they have some products you can't get elsewhere very easily... like lingonberry juice! And everything has silly Swedish names! Oh, Ikea. So much fun. I am so happy there is one in my city now.

Grateful for: Vinyl

I've been working on a quilting project lately, and since our music player in my sewing room is a record player, I've been listening to records. Mostly a Mannheim Steamroller Christmas album. But it only has 8 songs on it, so when that gets old, I listen to Ross's other records, which include a lot of 1960's and 70's folk.

As far as I know, my mom has never quilted. She is a much more talented seamstress than I am, so she makes things like clothing and silk wall hangings. (I have never successfully made any clothing, my costumes rely heavily on staples and hot glue, and I've been working on the same Christmas wall hanging for like five years.) I make quilts and blankets because they come together quickly and following a pattern is not necessary.

Anyway, as I've been upstairs listening to records and sewing, I've been feeling connected to my mom. I don't think she's ever worked on a quilt while listening to Peter, Paul, and Mary or Simon & Garfunkel on vinyl, but when I do, I appreciate sewing and folk music - and my mother - in a new way.

"We who were formerly no people at all..."

In my newspaper today, which was devoted mostly to the tenth anniversary of 9/11, I found an ad for picture frames on sale. So this afternoon I bought a frame for this print, which I have had for almost a year:

Among other things, it says this, if you can't read the picture:

"The Prince of Peace is Jesus Christ. We who were formerly no people at all, and who knew of no peace, are now called to be a church... of peace. True Christians do not know vengeance. They are the children of peace. Their mouths speak peace, and they walk in the way of peace."

-Menno Simons, Reply to False Accusations, 1552

Ten years to the day after the solemn voice of my high school principal interrupted a test I was taking in freshman Drama class to announce that planes had flown into the World Trade Center and Pentagon, I will hang in my home this call to peace written by the founder of the church I embraced because of 9/11.

On that day, I was worried: first for the safety of my cousins who live in New York City, and then, increasingly as days and weeks passed, about what new horrors would arise as a result of the terror of that day. I felt angry - first at the nebulous, powerful, extensive terrorist organization I was learning about for what they had done, and then at the bloodlust I saw from politicians and ordinary people as they responded.

Flags flew, voices on the radio and television called for retaliation, the National Anthem was played more than ever in my life, Arab and Muslim Americans were made victims of hate crimes, flags showed up on politicians' suits and people's t-shirts, bombing began in Afghanistan.

I said the Pledge of Allegiance on one of those early days and for the first time, I thought about what I was saying. "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America..." which was omnipresent in those days, "...and to the republic for which it stands..." which was breaking my heart with its swift retribution.

I wanted to take part in the national mourning, but the national mourning in one breath expressed grief and called for infliction of further violence. How could we cry for the loss of three thousand innocent people and at the same time demand more death? I wanted calls for peace, I wanted to think about how a country makes brave strides toward forgiveness and seeks true justice in the face of terrible violence. I remember George W. Bush on television, assuring America that "You're either with us or you're against us" as he called for war. I felt profoundly alienated.

Each successive 9/11 anniversary, my anger and alienation have lessened and sadness and commitment to peace have grown.

On this 9/11/11, may we be reminded that we humans are children of peace. May our hearts overflow with peace. May we speak peace and walk in the way of peace.

Vaya con Dios, mi hermanita

Today my sister Grace leaves for a one-year service term in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. Which means (I just calculated) that she will be 4,785 miles away. I am incredibly proud of her for doing this. Several of my friends have done terms with SALT, but mostly after college -- and Grace is going before college. I wish I had taken a gap year.

She is nervous and excited about going. I am nervous and excited for her, but not being the one going, and six more years of perspective, means I'm mostly just excited for her. I know she is going to have an amazing experience and learn so much. She is already a thoughtful, funny, mature young woman. She will come back with a more global perspective, kickass Spanish skills, and who knows what other invaluable experiences. In case you want to follow her journey, she's blogging about it here.

I have been pretty happy about my sister since about the time I found out I was getting a sister. That's me (age almost 6) on the right, my brother Nicholas (4) on the left, and baby Grace in the middle. Circa March 1993.

And more recently:

Road Trip to Utah

Last weekend we went on a road trip with Jess and Bonni. We spent a day in Glenwood Springs, CO (where we went to the hot springs pool). The next day, it was on to Dinosaur National Monument, where we hiked and camped. With some planning, Ross and Jess were able to recreate the glorious experience from a previous camping trip of frying Spam on a hot rock. It was better than I remembered.

(Bonni & Jess hiking at Dinosaur)

We drove south to Moab, UT, the next day, where we visited Canyonlands National Park that afternoon and Arches National Park the next morning. After marveling at the scenery, it was time to head back to Denver by way of the Colorado National Monument. Below are pictures of Ross and me at Arches National Park and of a view within Canyonlands National Park.

These national parks and monuments were full of some amazing rock formations. There were a lot of places where a view down from a bluff was so staggering that we all felt like our brains couldn't quite figure out how to process the visual information. It was truly awesome.

New job

Big news for me -- I recently accepted a new job! I'll start working as a research assistant studying renal disease and hypertension (that's kidneys and high blood pressure, for my readers whose vocabularies do not favor the medical) at University of Colorado's medical center in mid-July. I started reading through the project descriptions for what I'll be doing today. I'm excited and apprehensive about this.

I'm excited because...
- I will get to use my brain so much more than at my current job. My mind is crying out to be challenged.
- The new job has better pay and kickass benefits.
- I won't have to deal with the rude patients anymore.
- Did I mention that I'm looking forward to an intellectual challenge?

I'm apprehensive because...
- I will not have a close-knit group of coworkers like I do at my current job - it'll just be me and my boss.
- I don't know much about kidneys or the vascular system yet.
- I think I may miss patient contact.
- The timing of me leaving my job is not especially convenient for them, and I feel kind of bad about that.

In the mean time, I am trying to figure out what to do career-wise. Main options include nurse practitioner, physician assistant, or Ph.D. in human medical genetics or molecular physiology. I'm not ruling out medical school or a master's in genetic counseling either. I sure wish I could figure my life out.

A good day.

I had a really nice day today. It was one of those days that feels really long in a good way, I think because I didn't have any expectations or errands I had to run, just lived in the moment.

After church, Jess mentioned that he needed to go to the garden store, and I asked if I could go with him. Ross was sick (that part was not one of the nice parts) but just sick enough to want to stay home and not do too much, and Jess's girlfriend, Bonni, was working all day. So we decided to hang out together - something I don't think we've done in a long time. It was really pleasant -- I've missed one-on-one time with Jess. He's one of my best friends from college, but we usually hang out at least with our significant others.

We went to the garden center, helped Connie and John rig up a trellis for hops plants, met Bonni and Laura in the afternoon on Bonni's lunch break and then went to Starbucks with Laura and took her dog for a walk around a park with a lake and prairie dogs and gorgeous views of the mountains. Afterward, Laura and Jess both needed to do some gardening, so I went with Jess back to his house (via Home Depot), we planted vegetables, and then reunited with Laura and Bonni for game night at another friend's house. (I skipped out on that after parfaits to come home.)

I wish I had pictures for this post, but I don't. It was just a really nice day and sometimes, when you have a day like today, you just want to put it out there.

Cold War Birthday Party

Ross and I celebrated our birthdays (April 8 and May 19) on Saturday. We had a Cold War themed birthday party.

People came in costume. There were cookies, dry ice, glow bracelets, and Atomic Age info-propaganda films and sound clips.

John and Connie (our gracious hosts) even broke open a package of authentic survival crackers! John got them when he was a food pantry volunteer in the 1980s -- he says a government truck dropped off several tins of these. They tasted and smelled like cardboard.

We had a wonderful time!

Demographic Oppression

I am currently reading "Outliers" by Malcolm Gladwell. It's a very interesting read -- Ross recommended it to me and I am finding it captivating so far -- but it is making me depressed about my future.

Gladwell's thesis is basically that wildly successful people achieve great success not only because of their own talent and hard work, but also (and mostly) because of their life circumstances -- even because of the day a person was born. This is not exactly an earth-shattering proposition to me. However, Gladwell gives examples of one success story after another, and the more I read, the more fatalistic I get about my own chances for, oh, say, achieving my life goal and dream of becoming a physician.

I have failed to gain admission to medical school twice now. I don't think I am an unqualified candidate. I went to college on academic scholarships and won two writing contests. I completed all the pre-medical coursework and then some, and my GPA is 3.46. I scored a 28 and then a 29 on the MCAT. My most significant work experience is in clinical and research settings. I have done hundreds of hours of volunteer work and extracurricular activity participation. My application essays are eloquent, and I can discuss multiple current issues in modern health care at length. The numerical values of my preparedness are not the best ones out there -- they are around average, a little below average for matriculating med students in the years I applied. But they ought to be good enough.

In 1999, the average MCAT and GPA of a newly accepted medical student were 29.7 and 3.59. In 2010, the averages were an MCAT of 31.1 and a GPA of 3.67. In the last decade, average medical school acceptance rates have stayed around 42% or 43% while grade point averages and test scores for applicants have inflated.

But I was born in the Millenial Generation, the biggest generation since the Baby Boomers and, I read, three times the size of Generation X. My graduating class pushed our school buildings' capacities to the limits. The "Great Recession" hit in September 2008. I graduated from college eight months later. I've read somewhere that young people who enter the job market during a recession face handicapped earning potential for the rest of their lives. Demographically, according to Gladwell, I am screwed. Someone just like me but fifteen years older would have faced far less competition and probably succeeded where I have failed. I wish I had known that years ago. I might have spent extra hours studying.

One of the points that Gladwell makes is that there seems to be an intelligence threshold for professional success. One does not need to be the most intelligent or get the best grades or test scores to succeed. One only needs to be intelligent enough, a good enough student. Surely more than 43% of medical school applicants meet that threshold and would be successful physicians given the chance. I think I am one of them.

So many people have commented to me that I would be a good doctor or that they would see me as their personal physician. I have wanted that, and worked for that, for more than half my life. There is a physician shortage, projected to get worse. So why am I facing an identity crisis instead of finishing my second year of medical school? Why am I trying to dissolve fourteen years of hopes and dreams, to convince myself that I don't want to be a doctor after all?

This was not the plan.

Remembering baptism

My sister was baptized today. I wasn't able to be in Kansas City to see it, but I was certainly with her in spirit. I am so proud of her. Congratulations, Grace!

In our Easter service at church (or maybe whenever we have a baptism?) we have a ritual during communion called "remembering your baptism" wherein, after taking communion, people may share the date and place of their baptism with the pastor and be anointed with water. Our church allows "all who seek the way of Christ" to take communion, not just baptized members, so I like this ritual of calling attention to the importance of baptism. After all, as Mennonites, we are Anabaptists -- "re-baptizers". Our denomination was born out of the radical idea (for the 1500s, not for the early church) that joining the church through baptism ought to be a decision made by an adult believer. Traditionally, only the baptized take communion, which is how I was raised.

I think I was baptized in the spring of 2002. Possibly 2003. It was spring, but wasn't Easter, and I have forgotten the date. I was 14 or 15, but my birthday is in May, so I might remember that I was 15 when I hadn't actually turned 15 yet - hence the confusion about the year. I remember being baptized vividly. I wore a blue and white floral skirt I had bought on a trip to Europe and a white sweater. I sat in the right front pew with my friend Kate. We were so nervous; we giggled at the mundane image on the worship bulletin cover. We were baptized together - kneeling, her to my right, backs to the congregation, first Kate, then me. I remember Carmen, the deacon who held the water pitcher, and Beatrix, a beloved Sunday School teacher who held towels for us, though I didn't really need one; there was much less water poured on me than I thought there would be.

I chose to be baptized because 9/11 had happened, and the invasions of Afghanistan and maybe also Iraq, and I had uncovered my pacifist Mennonite roots. My spiritual upbringing had been a combination of my parents' somewhat mystic spiritual beliefs, a staunch prohibition of toy guns and violent media, Sunday School stories, and church camp. I started praying and going to church of my own accord in middle school. But 9/11 and its aftermath prompted the discovery that I was, as it turned out, "in the world but not of the world." And so I was baptized.

There was no conversion experience. I still do not have a "personal relationship with Jesus," although I believe that what he taught is worth following. As far as I'm concerned, my baptism doesn't secure me a place in heaven. What I do have is ownership of my heritage, a personal relationship with my church community, and a commitment to that community and to continual spiritual reflection and discernment. Baptism was choosing that commitment.

Sisters!

My sister Grace came to visit last week! It was lots of fun to spend sister-time with her. We are six years apart, so we are just now getting to the age where we can be friends, and it is great! I love having a sister, and I am so proud of all the cool things she's doing -- like that after she graduates from high school in May she's going to spend a gap year in Bolivia volunteering at an after-school program through Mennonite Central Committee. And she can run 10 miles.

We had a photo shoot. My friend Jess took these pictures of us. Grace and her friends do this all the time. I don't know why I didn't think to do photo shoots for fun in high school! Anyway, she is a way better model than I am. I did not know what to do with my limbs and she was looking all America's Next Top Model.We also went to the Celestial Seasonings factory for a tour. I had never been before. We thought it was pretty great. I just wish Celestial Seasonings made more caffeinated teas. I did find a new decaf tea I liked though - Sweet Coconut Thai Chai tea.

I love my sister!

Ash Wednesday

Four years ago, I gave up meat for Lent. It was the first time I had given anything up for Lent. It was not spiritually edifying for me. Perhaps for some, the surrender of a too-beloved food or activity is a spiritual practice, but for me it was just a dietary change. The sentiment I have heard from some Christians observing Lent of "Jesus died for me; the least I can do is give up ___ for him" became utterly ridiculous to me. And my change from semi-conscientious eater of meat to vegetarian did not achieve the asceticism of early baptismal candidates, who spent the forty days before Easter fasting and praying.

After that meatless Lenten season, I gave up on giving up vices for Lent and decided that if I chose to observe Lent, I would do so by making time for a spiritual practice. Since then, I have chosen to meditate on scripture. I've found it much more meaningful.

I have chosen Psalm 139:1-18 as my meditation text for Lent. I had saved it as an option last night when I was looking for one, and it was one of the texts used in our Ash Wednesday service this evening. It is 40 lines, one for each day of Lent. Reason enough.

Psalm 139:1-18

O Lord, you have searched me and known me.
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from far away.
You search out my path and my lying down,
and are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue,
O Lord, you know it completely.
You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is so high that I cannot attain it.

Where can I go from your spirit?
Or where can I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there;
if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.
If I take the wings of the morning
and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me fast.

If I say, 'Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light around me become night',
even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is as bright as the day,
for darkness is as light to you.

For it was you who formed my inward parts;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
that I know very well.
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.
In your book were written
all the days that were formed for me,
when none of them as yet existed.

How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
I try to count them -- they are more than the sand;
I come to the end--I am still with you.

During these forty days, I will have to deal with some big, life-changing decisions -- some made by me, some not. I am waiting to hear back from the one medical school I have a chance to get into. If I get in, Ross and I will start the process of leaving a place we love dearly, and we will need to make difficult financial and personal decisions. If I don't get in, I will need to reevaluate my career and educational prospects, a process I have already started. I will travel to Europe for two weeks, which will be a significant -- and hopefully very good! -- experience. There may be some significant changes at work, the details of which I don't yet know. This is a time when I sometimes hardly feel like I know myself, and I need to believe that I am part of something beyond myself. So, I'm looking forward to engaging this text.

Junior Youth

This afternoon I went to a concert that several of my junior youth girls from church performed in. One of the girls looked very serious through the whole performance. I don't think she took her eyes off the director for a second. I wondered if she was nervous, though she has a lot of choral experience. As the choir sang their last song and walked around the outside aisles, I caught the eye of that girl for the first time and her face just lit up. It made my day.

Since August, I've been one of the junior high youth group sponsors at church. I had really positive experiences with church as a teenager, and I want to help facilitate a similarly good experience for the youth at my church. (Hopefully they are, in fact, having a good time.) I chose junior high rather than senior high because the time commitment was less, the kids seemed interesting, and there's a bigger age difference between me and the oldest ones.

I used to think that people who worked with middle schoolers were crazy. However, I think I am now far enough removed from actually being a middle schooler that that terribly awkward experience is fading. Being a youth sponsor certainly reminds me that I am glad not to be 13 anymore, but they are actually pretty fun to work with. They are funny, energetic, honest, and willing to participate. They like hanging out with each other, which makes my job easy -- I think the most important part of being a youth sponsor is making time for them to just have fun together.

The most rewarding parts for me, though, are the brief moments when I can tell that they are happy that I'm involved in their lives -- whether that's telling me about a school dance, trusting me for advice about a social issue, outright informing me that the consensus is that they like me a lot but not quite as much as a previous sponsor who let them tie her up during a game during the lock-in (because you really can't beat that), or a smile from a kid who sees me at her concert.

Reflections on Extreme Healthy Eating Month

Wow, February flew by! I guess that's what you get with a 28-day month. Extreme Healthy Eating Month went pretty well for me. I did break my vows a few times, but generally I was good about sticking to my list. Sticking to a list of allowed foods was actually much easier for me than just trying to avoid unhealthy foods.

It was easy to do at work, especially - which I didn't expect since we constantly have sweets at work. Right now there are cookies, Starburst candy, and chocolate caramel popcorn available at work, and it's always like that. Home health and durable medical equipment agencies bring sweets to us to try to win our favor (it's a competitive field) but I wish they'd bring healthy foods a little more often.

Where I cheated was mostly at other people's houses; I didn't want to turn down friends' hospitality. I also quickly realized that my favorite salads are those that have blue cheese or feta on them, so I made an exception to my no cheese rule for that.

Speaking of the no cheese rule though, I discovered that I feel a lot better with less dairy in my diet. I ate Greek yogurt almost every day, but we were drinking lactose-free milk (which I don't really like so I didn't have much of it) and other than that, the tiny amounts of cheese on salad were all I had. I don't think I'm lactose intolerant, because I can certainly handle dairy just fine, but I feel kind of sluggish and bloated after eating a lot of cheese. Too bad I also love cheese. I missed cheese way more than sweets.

Since yesterday was March 1, though, I went a little overboard on the sweets. I ate a cookie and some of that chocolate caramel popcorn at work, as well as several Girl Scout cookies at home. By dinnertime I was feeling kind of nauseous, but then Ross wanted to go for Free Pancake Day at IHOP, so we did. Honestly, I kind of just want to eat salad all day now.

February: Extreme Healthy Eating Month!

On the ski lift on Saturday, after eating a cheese and grapes for a snack followed by grilled cheese for lunch, I decided that I needed to do something about my diet. Namely, eat less cheese. So I ruminated about doing a cheese fast for February, but since I need to lose some weight, I wanted to go a little more extreme than that. I settled on the following diet plan. I am calling it Extreme Healthy Eating Month. So for the month of February, I will eat only the following categories of foods:

1. Fruits
   
2. Vegetables
3. Whole grains
4. Lean meats & fish
5. Seeds & nuts
6. Yogurt

I am not being as stringent about drinks. I am definitely allowed water, skim milk, coffee, and tea. 100% juice is fine too, though I don't really drink much of it. No soda (diet or regular) or sweet iced tea. However, I spent most of December and January abstaining from alcohol and I missed beer a lot, so the occasional beer is okay even though it is full of carbohydrates.

My goal is to exercise 40 minutes 4 times a week. I'm sure I won't meet that, but I will try.

Ross is joining me in this endeavor, although he admittedly is not being as determined about it. He doesn't need or want to lose any weight, but I buy and cook most of the food and he is happy to go along with healthy eating.

Our suppers for this week are as follows:
Monday: Leftover panang curry for me; not sure what Ross ate
Tuesday: Baked salmon and asparagus
Wednesday: Moroccan chicken stew
Thursday: Brown rice & pinto beans with salsa and salad
Friday: Buffalo chicken strips & Caesar salad
Saturday: Cranberry, Butternut Squash, and Roast Shallot Couscous
Sunday: Leftovers

Ross's hoarding tendencies pay off

Ross sometimes saves things that I think are ridiculous. Case in point: three napkins from the Melting Pot. Because they have a really nice texture.

We last went to the Melting Pot in September.
















But it turns out that Melting Pot napkins make really good dust cloths. Way better than paper towels.




















I guess I'll hang on to those other two napkins.

2010

2010 was the first year of my life since I was... 2? 3? that did not involve any school. I got to do all sorts of fun things. So let's have a recap!

In January, February, and March, I embraced living in Colorado and went skiing 8 times. I successfully attempted my first black runs and back bowls and made significant improvement to my mogul-skiing skills (that is to say I went from terrified avoidance to slowly and un-gracefully making it down mogul runs with limited falls... I'm still not very good.)

In April, we celebrated Ross's 25th birthday and I took the MCAT. In May, we moved into the church caretaker position and apartment, celebrated my 23rd birthday, and visited Bethel for friends' graduations.

In June, I was a bridesmaid for the first time in my friend Laura's wedding. It was also my introduction to Catholic weddings. I also started a quilting class at church that lasted all summer.

I spent a lot of time in July focusing on fitness, eating very healthfully and running a lot in preparation for Ross's extended family's beloved beach vacation during the first week of August. Ross and I also began serving as junior youth leaders at church.

In September, I was happy to have several college friends visit for a weekend. We hiked, slid down a "glacier" and an alpine slide, visited the Buffalo Bill Museum, and ate good food (a must for this group!). A group of Denver friends started a homemade food co-op which is working out nicely. I started Tae Kwon Do classes.

October brought another visit to Bethel for Fall Fest and the birth of a new niece -- Ariana Marie, daughter of Ross's sister Andrea and her husband Tyson. We enjoyed spending time with Ross's extended family for Thanksgiving in November and visiting colleges with my sister, who came along.

December involved the usual Christmas festivities, which I posted about before, and two days of skiing.

Evidently I can't embrace a good year of no school without trying to get back into school, because I spent all of 2010 and a substantial amount of money applying to medical school. From January through April, I diligently studied for the MCAT, and from June through December, I submitted applications and waited for responses. I applied to 6 medical schools and ended the year with my first interview invitation - at KU in January.

2010 was a year of expanding horizons. Many of these don't fit into the calendar above - deepening new friendships in Denver, refining my beer palate, pushing my comfort zone at work as I continually learn to talk to so many people, learning to play and enjoying many evenings playing Settlers of Catan.

2010 was a wonderful year.